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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748711">Batman: The Brave and The Bold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage'>scandalsavage</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Earth-15 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Clark Kent is Superman, Dimension Travel, Dru-Zod is Superman, Earth-15, Exposition, Jason Todd is Batman, M/M, Sappy, a little angsty, day 4: dimension travel, implied Clark/Bruce, implied Zod/Jason, implied double superbat, lots of world-building worked in, some might say too much</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:21:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,772</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748711</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(Do not need to have read part 1)</p><p>Bruce and Clark find themselves on an alternate Earth that seems too good to be true. It's nearly identical to theirs in terms of history except that Earth-15 has managed to create the kind of world that Bruce fights for exhaustively. </p><p>Oh. And Earth-15's Bruce Wayne was killed by the Joker in a dusty warehouse in the desert while Jason Todd survived, inheriting the mantle of the Batman.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Earth-15 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>BruJay Week 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Batman: The Brave and The Bold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>(could technically take place before Countdown but even if it doesn't, we like to quietly shuffle the fact that Superboy Prime destroyed this Earth, brutally murdering all the heroes, under the creepy stairs in the basement where no one ever looks)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bruce is unsurprised to find a world in the multiverse where his—their, because Clark is with him and it’s Clark’s fight too—crusade has borne fruit.</p><p>What does surprise him is that the world of his dreams doesn’t include him. Or Clark.</p><p>He’s not sure who the man across from him, clad in a Batsuit nearly identical to his own, is but he knows it isn’t him and he knows it isn’t Dick. A couple inches too short to be Bruce, a couple inches too tall to be Dick.</p><p>But he recognizes the man hovering at the shoulder of this world’s Batman, wearing Superman’s colors. He’s coiled for action on sight, just in case this place isn’t all it seems to be.</p><p>“General Zod,” Clark all but growls, also looking ready for a fight.</p><p>Zod—<em>Superman</em>—cocks his head. But neither he, nor his partner, move to attack. “I’m no general. Dangerous assumption to make, that everyone in the multiverse is as they are in your dimension.”</p><p>“Believe me, we’re very aware they’re not,” Clark responds, relaxing a little, though not entirely. “But our Zod is… a very dangerous person. Doesn’t hurt to be a little cautious either.”</p><p>Zod nods. “Fair enough. What can we help you with?”</p><p>Batman stares at Bruce through the entire exchange. At Zod’s last comment, that cowled head tilts toward his companion and mutters something too low for Bruce to hear.</p><p>Clark frowns though, so obviously it was something concerning.</p><p>“I suppose they can’t,” Zod offers. “But it can’t hurt to hear them out. If you have an alternative…”</p><p>“No,” Batman says and with just that one word, Bruce’s heart drops into his stomach so fast he feels ill. “You’re right. Helping them will reveal them either way and allow us to keep an eye on them.”</p><p>Zod smiles indulgently at his Batman before the three of them, Zod, Batman, and Clark, start discussing how to help get Bruce and Clark home. Meanwhile, Bruce continues reeling.</p><p>He knows that voice.</p><p>He would have never expected it. Not in his wildest dreams.</p><p>“Jason?” he asks, practically croaking the name out of a suddenly constricted throat.</p><p>The conversation that had been happening around him dies instantly. Batman—<em>Jason</em>—snaps his attention to Bruce. Only intimate familiarity lets Bruce see the surprise etched into the other man’s microexpressions.</p><p>Silence spreads out unbearably long and heavy as they just stare at each other. The fact that Clark and Zod are staring at them too doesn’t even register.</p><p>Finally, Jason says “Bruce?” and it’s so small and hopeful that Bruce’s heart thuds in sympathy.</p><p>He needs to know everything.</p>
<hr/><p>They split up. Clark and Zod go off to the Fortress of Solitude, both obtaining promises from their Batman to call for them if the other becomes a problem.</p><p>Bruce isn’t worried.</p><p>It would seem that Jason isn’t either.</p><p>When they’d first arrived, neither Bruce nor Clark could tell where they had landed on the globe just by looking around. After Bruce checked his GPS (which, somehow managed to ping the satellites in orbit of this alternate Earth), they were certain it wasn’t working.</p><p>Gotham is a stirling, gleaming, gem of a city. Not the sparkling ode to modernity that the Metropolis of Bruce’s world is. This place is still recognizably Gotham once Bruce gets a good look at her. It’s still a bastion of gothic sensibilities. But it’s… clean. Robinson Park is in full spring bloom and bustling with happy pedestrians who aren’t looking over their shoulders and glancing nervously at every passerby. As Jason drives the Batmobile through the city, cuts through Crime Alley of all places, Bruce notes that the streets are clean, there are no signs of recent vandalism, not a hint of any supervillain activity. There isn’t so much as a homeless person with a cardboard sign.</p><p>Truthfully, the level of… peacefulness, puts Bruce on alert. In his experience, places this serene on the surface are often the worst. Something subtle and insidious usually pulling some horrific strings behind the scenes.</p><p>Jason must sense his discomfort because he shifts in the driver’s seat and quickly flicks his gaze to Bruce.</p><p>“It took a lot of work. Zod, Donna, Kyle, Roy, Vic… I don’t know if you have those people in your dimension, but they all managed to make this the kind of world where people could be safe.”</p><p>What Jason doesn’t say doesn’t escape Bruce’s notice.</p><p>“Hmm. Most of them are Titans with Dick.”</p><p>Jason nods. “They were here, too.”</p><p>“What about you?” Bruce asks. “Gotham looks… I’ve never seen it like this. Crime Alley is—”</p><p>“Park Row,” Jason says, tossing Bruce a smirk. “It hasn’t been known as Crime Alley in years. Kinda hard to keep the name when the crime drops to practically nothing.”</p><p>“How did you do it?”</p><p>“Blood, sweat, and tears,” Jason says with only a half-joking smirk. “And lots of patience. Plenty of help. One person can’t save a city, you know? And while the capes help, you need more than a couple vigilantes and one dude with deep pockets to make real, lasting change.”</p><p>Bruce just hums. Jason glances at him without turning away from the road ahead. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just… crime is more complex than putting criminals away. I had to fight to get honest politicians elected, or at least people who could be guilted into doing the right thing. We had to route out corruption in the police, ended up starting practically from scratch. Arkham was unsalvageable. And that was just the surface stuff. We had to figure out how to get existing infrastructure to work <em>for</em> people. Jobs programs but not like anything ever seen before. Community initiatives that actually involved the community. Park Row is the way it is now because once the people there had the resources to build it up, they did.”</p><p>“That sounds… incredibly expensive,” Bruce says as delicately as possible.</p><p>This time Jason’s grin is downright wicked. “Let’s just say I got really good at sweet talking your friends out of more and more of their money. Eventually they noticed they were actually getting a return on their investment.” Jason shrugs. “It’s not a perfect world. There are still problems. There’s still some crime, there will always be people who want to feel powerful by preying on the weak. But it’s better than ever and getting better everyday.”</p><p>The car turns along the familiar road to the cave’s secret entrance. Deciding to wait until they’re more comfortably situated in the manor to continue their conversation, Bruce takes the last few moments of the ride to surreptitiously observe Jason out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>He’s grown up obviously. As tall as the resurrected Jason Bruce is familiar with but not quite as broad. Even with the cowl pulled over half his face, he looks young.</p><p>But then… all his boys have always been young. Too young.</p><p>It’s hard to hold back from asking all the questions he has. And he can tell that Jason is waiting too.</p><p>Finally, after an eternity of silence, the car stops. Bruce looks around after exiting the vehicle. The cave is much the same as his own. With the exception that the technology seems a bit more advanced than in Bruce's world.</p><p>Benefits of what amounts to world peace and proper handling of supervillains, he supposes.</p><p>They change out of their suits in silence. Jason gives him a loose black t-shirt and soft grey sweatpants to wear and puts on something similar, green long-sleeve shirt instead of black short-sleeve.</p><p>In his peripheral, Bruce catches a glimpse of Jason bared from the waist up and his heart stops; understands the choice of covering his arms. Bruce is used to scars. They liter his own body and the bodies of all his proteges. But even to him, this Jason appears to have more than even Bruce.</p><p>He keeps his questions to himself. There will be time upstairs. Preferably with a large drink in hand.</p><p>They leave the cave through the clock in Bruce’s study. Or rather… Jason’s study. Much is unchanged. But Bruce does note the time on the clock that unlocks the secret entrance is different before Jason turns the hands 12:00.</p><p>His heart plummets, stomach flipping uncomfortably. If that’s when Bruce died—</p><p>He follows Jason out, down familiar halls that are nearly the same as his own but for lighter paint and the occasional work of art that Bruce doesn’t remember. His eye happens to catch on the signature of an oil painting and he stops dead in the hall to take a closer look at the whole thing.</p><p>It’s a portrait. Three dark-haired, light-eyed young men with happy smiles flank an elderly, balding man. It’s unmistakably Dick, Jason, Damian, and Alfred.</p><p>A presence at his shoulder makes him start a little.</p><p>“The other one is Damian. He’s—”</p><p>“My son. With Talia.”</p><p>Jason smiles. “Yeah. I ran into him a few years after… well, after you died. Talia and I actually get on pretty well. Helped her take down Ra’s, not that she really needed it in the end. Anyway, she thought it’d be nice for Damian to get to know us, his… brothers for lack of a better term. Thought maybe being away from the League, even if she was making pretty drastic changes, would help him get past all the indoctrination Ra’s forced on him.”</p><p>Humming, Bruce idly rests a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “If he’s anything like ours, I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”</p><p>Jason’s shoulders shake with a quiet laugh. “He pushed our patience to the brink a few times but he’s a good kid. Just needed some understanding.”</p><p>They stare at the painting a little longer until Bruce can’t resist.</p><p>“So, Tim never got into the life then,” he says, half to himself and not at all sure how the swirling emotions inside of him might settle. On the one hand, it’s probably better for anyone to not get involved in the vigilante/superhero business. Tim wouldn’t have had to go through all the losses Bruce’s Tim did, if he never became Robin. His dad might still be alive, still able to make up for lost time. On the other, Bruce knows how much Tim <em>wanted</em> to be a part of things, this life. And it makes him kind of sad to think that Tim may have not realized that dream in this world.</p><p>“Tim Drake?” Jason asks, blinking at Bruce in surprise. “Yeah, sure. He’s married and retired now. Sold Drake Industries to Foxtecha and heads up their R&amp;D department. Tam, the CEO, is his wife. He used to be the biggest information broker in the hero business. Gotham, Star City, New York, even the Justice League, Oracle could get you what you needed.”</p><p>“But he was never Robin?”</p><p>Fidgeting, Jason suddenly looks uncomfortable again. “No, not really. I… after you… well, if <em>you</em> could be killed, I didn’t… I couldn’t put a kid in that position. Well, until Damian demanded it. But he was going to fight anyway. League training and what not. Figured it’d be better for him to have a chaperone, at least. I did train Tim some, but later, when he was an adult and already established as Oracle.”</p><p>Bruce grins at that, all of that. Even if everything Jason says just brings up more questions.</p><p>“What about Barbara Gordon?”</p><p>“After Joker murdered her dad, the police commissioner, she joined the force. Internal Affairs. Absolutely brilliantly ruthless. Eventually she became commissioner herself. She’s mayor now though. Couldn’t have saved Gotham without her help from the inside.”</p><p>Jason takes him by the arm and smiles at him again. “Come on, we can talk more with a drink and some dinner.”</p><p>Aromas of garlic, caramelized onions, and roasting meat great then long before they reach the kitchen. He doesn’t know why, but the thought that Alfred alphas stayed, would still be here, even after Bruce’s death had never really crossed his mind. A pang of gilt follows when Jason quietly pushes open the door and ushers him in. Of course Alfred stayed. He loves the boys just as much as Bruce does. The heartbreaking image of Jason, wandering the halls of Wayne Manor, alone but for the occasional visit from Dick and Damian, leaves on a sigh of relief.</p><p>Alfred turns away from the stove. There is a beat where he starts to smile at Jason. Then his eyes catch on Bruce.</p><p>The old butler jumps about a foot in the air, dropping a serving dish of perfectly roasted, golden and red potatoes. For a long moment, he just stares at Bruce, emotions warring across his face. Pain, joy, horror, hope.</p><p>Jason skirts around the line of sight, letting Alfred come to terms with the revelation, and puts a gentle hand on the old man’s elbow.</p><p>Still, Alfred jerks at the touch before turning glassy eyes up to the young man.</p><p>“He’s from a different Earth in the multiverse,” Jason explains softly. “Go. Talk, relax. I’ll get this cleaned and finished up.”</p><p>Alfred almost argues, Bruce can see it, but then his eyes flick back to where Bruce stands awkwardly in the doorway, and he carefully makes his way to the little table in the corner. Bruce follows while Jason starts to scoop broken china into the bin.</p><p>They just sit there for a while, Bruce happy to give Alfred all the time he needs to gather his thoughts. The first thing Alfred says to him, is not what he expects.</p><p>“I failed you.”</p><p>Bruce starts. What on earth…</p><p>“I failed to stop you from your suicidal war and it got you killed. I failed to stop you from involving children and it ruined their lives. I failed to insist that you all get the professional help you needed and—“</p><p>“Alfred,” Bruce interjects gently, “if your Bruce was anything like me, you <em>did</em> try to do all that and he couldn’t be reasoned with. Most Bruce Wayne’s are stubborn bastards.”</p><p>The look that crosses Alfred’s expression is pained.</p><p>“I failed Jason. After you… after our Bruce died… I abandoned him. I left when he needed me most.”</p><p>Even without knowing the details, Bruce knows there must be more to it than that. Of all of them, Alfred is the least prone to misplaced guilt but that doesn’t mean he’s immune.</p><p>But he doesn’t get the chance to respond. Jason returns with three plates of delicious smelling food and an unopened bottle of Mccallan 21.</p><p>It takes Alfred some time to come out of his mood but Jason smothers the old man with fondness, smiling brightly at him, hugging him, nudging him with his shoulder and eventually Alfred is pulled into the present and joins in the conversation.</p><p>It’s a little odd, seeing Jason so freely affectionate when the one Bruce knows is so guarded all the time.</p><p>Eventually, Alfred wishes them a good night and heads to bed. Leaving Bruce and Jason to sit in a pleasant quiet, swirling their fourth drinks around the glasses.</p><p>“So,” Bruce says. “The time on the clock. 4:27. I take it that’s—”</p><p>“When my Bruce died? Yeah.”</p><p>Bruce stays silent for a beat as Jason stares into the amber liquid, not meeting his eyes.</p><p>“That’s when my Jason died.” He doesn’t want to ask his next question. He’s too afraid of the answer. But he has to know. “He was only 15…”</p><p>Flinching, Jason flicks his eyes up to Bruce before dropping them back to his drink and downing the rest in one gulp.</p><p>God.</p><p>“I didn’t put the cowl on until I was 16,” Jason says like that makes it any more palatable; like they’re not talking about a handful of months. He reaches for the bottle, fumbles with the cap a little, and pours himself a shaky fifth.</p><p>“I would have thought Dick—”</p><p>“Dick never wanted to be Batman. At least, not since I’ve known him. We talked about it once, early on. He came back for Bruce’s funeral, to handle some of the estate stuff. Worked in Gotham as Nightwing for a bit. But eventually, the Titans needed him back.”</p><p>Jason shrugs and sits a bit straighter. “We weren’t very close back then. The Titans were his family. It wasn’t fair to ask him to stay. Not when I knew how badly he missed them.”</p><p>Bruce thinks back, to the kid Jason was before he pulled his body from the rubble. Smart and strong and quick but… so very small. The mental picture of 16 year old Jason drowning in a too large Batsuit is equal parts endearing and horrifying.</p><p>At least Alfred would have tailored it to…</p><p>
  <em>I left when he needed me most.</em>
</p><p>“You… you were alone?”</p><p>Jason takes a sip of his drink and fidgets in his seat before looking up at Bruce from under his lashes, sheepish look on his face. “To be fair, I told Alfred Dick was coming home to take care of me. He never would have left, otherwise.”</p><p>“Jason—”</p><p>“You weren’t there, Bruce,” Jason says firmly. “You don’t know what he was like. He… he was totally wrecked. He wasn’t really <em>here,</em> you know? He lost his son and he just… got lost himself. The grief was overwhelming. He needed… he needed some space. To get away from here so he could breathe and heal.”</p><p>This time, Bruce chugs the rest of his drink before refilling his glass. He can’t imagine it, being alone after he lost his Jason. If Alfred hadn’t been there… if Tim hadn’t come along…</p><p>“Obviously he came back,” Jason is saying. “A year later, when he realized Dick never seemed to be able to take his calls and put together that I was intercepting them. Gave me a good dressing down.”</p><p>A smile spreads across Jason’s face at the memory. But Bruce can’t stop thinking about how sad it is that Jason had to grow up that much, that fast.</p><p>“Besides. Zod figured me out immediately and always checked in.”</p><p>Bruce’s eyebrows shoot up without his permission. There’s something there, something wistful and… intimate. Bruce doesn’t think he likes it at all.</p><p>“Are… are you and Zod—”</p><p>“No!” Jason says, way too quickly. The color blooming across his cheeks betraying the truth. “Maybe. I don’t know. We’re… it’s… complicated.”</p><p>Bruce can’t help the way the corners of his lips tug upwards. He’s never had this kind of conversion with Jason. Dick, Tim, even Damian, yes. But never Jason.</p><p>“You and Clark?” The question sounds innocent but the lopsided smirk on Jason’s face is mischievous.</p><p>Bruce doesn’t blush. But he does shift uncomfortably in his seat. He and Clark are… “Complicated.”</p><p>The following silence lingers, both men lost in their own musings. The lights in the room are warm and starting to starburst, long beams of orange streaking across Bruce’s vision. Jason’s eyes are the slightest bit unfocused.</p><p>But god they’re so… <em>blue</em>.</p><p>No hint of residual Lazarus green.</p><p>Suddenly, Jason isn’t in his seat. Bruce jolts when a hand drops onto his shoulder.</p><p>Jason giggles and gets a firm grip on Bruce’s elbow. “Come on, old man. It’s late. Let’s pick this up in the morning.”</p><p>They lean on each other through the house and up the stairs. Not as drunk as they should be with that amount of alcohol, but not nearly as sober as they were.</p><p>When they reach the family wing, Jason hesitates.</p><p>“Um… do you… do you want the master bedroom? I guess it’s really more yours than mine. Even considering—”</p><p>Bruce blinks at him. “This is <em>your </em>home, Jason. Not mine.”</p><p>“Right. ‘Course.” But he still doesn’t move.</p><p>“I may not be your Bruce,” he says, leaning in to nudge the younger man with his shoulder, “but I think I can safely say that he would be <em>immensely</em> proud of you. And everything you’ve accomplished. You… I always knew my Jason could do great things. So smart, resilient, compassionate. Stubborn and resourceful. Much like you, if I’m not mistaken.”</p><p>Jason steps back and looks up at him, eyes wide, mouth parted. Bruce realizes he’s just told this young man something he’d likely been longing to hear for ages. Something Jason hoped was true but could never know for sure.</p><p>This is the closest Jason will ever get to knowing that his Bruce would be pleased with what he’s done, be proud of the man he’s grown into and the way he’s made the world a better place.</p><p>“Th-thank you,” Jason says softly, voice cracking, eyes dropping to his shoes. “I… the others they all fought for the right reasons. To protect people and end the senseless violence and death.”</p><p>“If you’re going to try to convince me that wasn’t also your motivation, I think you’ll find it difficult. As far as I can tell, everyone here seems very similar to their counterparts on my Earth. Well, except Zod. I <em>know </em>that you wanted to help people—”</p><p>“No-I mean, yes,” Jason cheeks flush. “Of course I did-<em> do</em>. Always have that… that was how it started and it’s never changed but…”</p><p>Those blue eyes find Bruce’s and Jason’s blush creeps all the way down his face and throat, vivid pink.</p><p>Jason takes a deep breath. “I… I did it for you,” he says in a rush of words. “Or, my Bruce, anyway. I don’t know about your Jason but I… I <em>loved</em> my Bruce.” He fidgets uncomfortably but somehow manages to hold Bruce’s gaze. “I mean like, <em>in</em> love. I know I was young and dumb like every teenager but… I would have happily died for him. When he was taken from me, I just… I poured all my anger and pain into realizing his dream.”</p><p>On some level, Bruce knew how Jason had felt about him as a boy. But to hear it stated so plainly… Bruce doesn’t know what to do with it. This Jason is not <em>his </em>Jason. His Jason is still trying to figure out how to adjust in a world that moved on while he was buried. This is a Jason who never had that struggle; whose struggle mirrors Bruce’s.</p><p>How to survive without a person who <em>was </em>their world.</p><p>“But even that was only after I almost betrayed everything he stood for,” Jason mutters. “If it weren’t for Zod, I’d’ve killed the Joker.”</p><p>Bruce almost laughs. The similarities… it’s almost too much.</p><p>“Me too,” he confides. “Clark stopped me.”</p><p>Jason nods. “Zod stopped me. Talked me down. Still. If he hadn’t put Joker in the Phantom Zone… I don’t know that I would have had the strength to <em>never</em> kill him.”</p><p>Bruce freezes. He’d never thought of that. Why had he never thought of that? Why hadn’t Clark? If Jason had returned to a world without his murderer maybe… maybe things would have been different. Maybe he’d have closure. Peace.</p><p>Maybe it’s not too late.</p><p>He hasn’t told this Jason that his own came back from the dead. That apparently, Jason’s death was considered a cosmic mistake. He can’t help but compare their circumstances. Can’t help but think that maybe… maybe if Bruce had died that day instead, maybe their world be as idyllic as this one.</p><p>Not knowing what else to say, Bruce just hums a vague sound of agreement.</p><p>Of all the things that have surprised him here, Bruce is shocked to find that Jason leaning up to press their lips together is not one of them.</p><p>He <em>is</em> surprised that he doesn’t immediately push the younger man away. That he’s opening his mouth to let Jason’s tongue in. That he wraps an arm around Jason’s waist and pulls him closer while his other hand tangles in those wild curls.</p><p>For several long minutes, they make out in the hall, clinging to each other, pressing so close together it feels like they’re trying to occupy the same space.</p><p>Then he starts walking Jason back towards the master bedroom without separating.</p><p>The door flings open and bangs against the wall as they stumble past the threshold, increasingly desperate.</p><p>Bruce growls and spins Jason around, pulls him back, plants open-mouthed kisses down the line of Jason’s neck, across his shoulders. His hands dip under the younger man’s shirt, skim up the toned stomach, catching on scar after scar. Soaking up all the little gasps, the increased heart rate, the puffs of breath coming slower and heavier.</p><p>He pauses ravishing Jason’s neck just long enough to pull the green shirt off so he can have easier access to all that warm, battered skin.</p><p>When they reach the bed—not the same bed Bruce has, this is different, more sleek, less baroque—he turns Jason back to face him and shoves him down onto the mattress.</p><p>Before Jason’s body even settles, Bruce is tugging the sweats off that body. Then he just… stares.</p><p>The longer he stares, the more color rises to the surface of Jason’s skin until he’s almost entirely red. It’s beautiful.</p><p>“You just gonna look, or what?” Jason huffs, irritably.</p><p>Chuckling, Bruce takes mercy on him. Rips his own t-shirt off and dives in.</p><p>He licks a line up Jason’s belly to his chest, sucks a nipple into his mouth, flicks his tongue against it until Jason whines and his fingers twist into Bruce’s hair.</p><p>Wrapping a loose fist around Jason’s cock, he gives the little bud a light nibble the same moment he starts to gently stroke the heavy length.</p><p>It’s just enough to tease, not <em>enough</em> and it isn’t long before Jason’s hips are bucking up, searching for more friction.</p><p>“Please! Please, Bruce… oh god, <em>please!” </em>Jason gasps.</p><p>Bruce presses his lips to Jason’s sternum. “Such a polite boy,” he says, letting the rumble his chest echo through the other man’s body.</p><p>Jason growls. “Asshole. Just…”—Bruce drags his thumb over the sensitive head of Jason’s dick— “christ, just… <em>fuck</em>…”</p><p>“In due time,” Bruce says between mouthing his way up Jason’s throat. “What about Zod?”</p><p>It’s just teasing but the moment he says it he thinks maybe he shouldn’t have.</p><p>Jason scowls. But says, “He’s kept this long, he’ll keep a little longer,” and rolls his hips up against Bruce’s aching erection.</p><p>Bruce chokes and Jason’s grin is victorious.</p><p>“Drawer,” he commands, and Bruce doesn’t need to be told twice.</p><p>He stretches Jason open slowly, just to admire how pretty the boy is squirming and pleading for more. How the bump of his throat bobs and his jaw flexes every time Bruce’s fingertips brush over the extra sensitive spot inside him.</p><p>But the moment he sinks into that perfect, tight heat, Bruce wishes he’d done it sooner.</p><p>Suddenly, everything slows down.</p><p>One of Bruce’s arms is slung low around Jason’s hips, lifting him slightly up for a better angle, the other cradles the back of his head so that Bruce can taste that mouth the whole time.</p><p>He fucks Jason slowly, deliberately. Splits the younger man open on the long, deep plunge of his cock and pulls out just as purposefully. Jason tries to follow but Bruce uses his hold to keep him pinned.</p><p>Every time he bottoms out, Jason shudders.</p><p>When their lips separate for the briefest moments to catch their breath, Jason mutters a litany of Bruce's name and Bruce wants nothing more than to be worthy of those prayers.</p><p>Distantly, in some far away corner of Bruce’s mind, he thinks this is probably a bad idea. He’s never thought of his Jason like this. What if he does now? What if, when he gets home, he can’t help but see wet, kiss-bruised lips, parted in pleasure every time Jason says his name? What if, every time Jason looks at him, Bruce is reminded of those eyes, pupils blown and rings of blue fire burning with lust, looking up at him from under thick lashes?</p><p>Something pulls tight low in his abdomen, a string of fate ready to snap. He’s so close. Jason is so soft beneath him, so warm, so <em>tight</em>, clenching around his cock like he’s trying to keep it there forever.</p><p><em>“Bruce,”</em> Jason sighs against his cheek.</p><p>And all Bruce’s worries melt away. They need this, the two of them, this Jason and this Bruce. They’ve both lost so much, been through such similar circumstances. He needs this in a way he doesn’t understand, with an intensity he hasn’t felt in so long.</p><p>To be known.</p><p>For this one perfect moment of peace, he can handle whatever repercussions might come of it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments and kudos are loved and appreciated.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://scandalsavagefanfic.tumblr.com/">My Tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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